Blank Slate
by Never And Ever
Summary: Innocent. They had been wrong, and now Harry Potter was most likely insane, his own mind his torment. However, the world needed it's saviour and ten years in Azkaban wouldn't change that. After all, who are we to judge our salvation's sanity? Dark!Harry, Azkaban!Harry. AU.
1. Prologue

**Hello, world! It seems that I am obsessed with the clichés, with Silent Illusion being a wrong BWL story and now this, a Azkaban!Harry story. What is this madness?! Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I'll try to update soon, but I've also got Silent Illusion to write and I'm lazy. Thanks!**

**Warnings: Swearing**

**Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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Insane. Such a lovely, powerful word. Such a word could sum up an entire person's life, their entire personality. Did it describe him? Harry didn't really know, not anymore at least. Knowledge, or knowledge that lasted, was lost to him. It had been since his third year here. Azkaban. Another powerful word, though not nearly as lovely. Just its name, when uttered, would send a shiver down the spines of the weak and fearful. But then again, he supposed his did too, now. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Killed! Harry Potter, the Dark Lords Apprentice! Not that is was a bad thing, being feared. After all, didn't fear do the same thing as respect?

Traitor, though, was not a good word. It was immensely funny though. Ever since the third task, he had been called a traitor. Which in itself was hilarious, when he knew how wrong they all were. His younger, more naive self hadn't found it funny, though. But the funniest thing was that they were the traitors. They had betrayed him, and in turn, had doomed the wizarding word.

With that thought, the man formally known as the boy-who-lived, laughed. He laughed and laughed, until his chest hurt and his mouth filled with metallic tasting blood. He spat the blood on the floor and weakly turned his head towards the wall on his right side, still gasping for air. On it, were hundreds upon hundreds of thin lines. 3652 lines, to be exact. When Harry had first started his calendar, he had had no ink, but that problem was quickly solved. Beautiful, Gryffindor scarlet ink. He had been in this cold, tiny cell of exactly ten years. Happy fucking anniversary, he thought, before he began to laugh again. A dementor drifted by, briefly stoping by his cell. They didn't affect him, not anymore, though he felt his cell get even colder. It didn't stop his laughter. "Happy anniversary!" Harry laughed, his voice rough and shaky. "Happy fucking anniversary!"

Maybe it wasn't so bad to be insane, after all.

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**Yes, I know, it's very short. It's just the prologue, though, so I promise that the next chapter will be at least 1000 words. Review, my children.**


	2. Chapter 2: Right the Wrong

**Hello internet world! Very quick update! I'll probably go over this chapter soon and edit it, because I'm not really happy with it its very rushed. I won't be able to update for a week because I'm going on holiday. Anyone interested in Beta-ing? Enjoy! **

**Warnings****: Swearing**

**Disclaimer****: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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His bloody cousin wouldn't talk.

Sirius stood over Bellatrix, his best friend Remus by his side, Mad-Eye Moody and Snape standing off to the side, watching the proceedings. Bellatrix had been captured just yesterday, found in an old Death Eater hide-out along with several others. She had killed several Order members in the struggle, before they had managed to bring her back to the Orders headquarters, where he and Remus were now interrogating her about the increase in Death Eater attacks. Voldemort had been very reckless as of late, to the point the muggles had noticed. Bellatrix was, according to Snape, Voldemort's favourite Death Eater, so it was likely that she would know why they had become so arrogant in their actions.

Sirius had been pardoned six years ago and become an Auror, his old job before Azkaban. Remus was still living in Grimmauld place with him. He was currently working as a relief teacher for muggle schools, a job he enjoyed immensely. The both of them worked part-time, as the Order and the fight against Voldemort was very time consuming. The war had escalated quickly in the ten years after Potter had been imprisoned. In fact, Voldemort had gotten careless in his actions.

"Lestrange, talk. We will be forced to use truth serum if you resist any longer." Remus said, still somewhat patient even after what felt like hours of talking, trying to convince the insane woman to talk.

"Hurry up Lestrange. I don't like repeating myself. Tell us why Voldemort has been so reckless, the cocky bastard." Sirius had no more patience left.

"How dare you speak the Dark Lord's name! You will die, bloodtrator, you and all your little Mudblood friends! " Bellatrix hissed. The magical bounds around her glowed briefly as they stopped her attempt at wandless magic.

After a minute or so of disturbing, cold silence, Sirius decided that it was time. With a nod to Moody, truth serum was forced down Bellatrix's throat, Moody holding her nose and mouth until she swallowed.

"Good." Remus said, "That wasn't too bad, was it?"

Lestrange glared at him.

"You filthy Mudblood! You and your-"

"Shut up, Lestrange! Tell us why Voldemort is being so bloody careless! What is he planning!"

"The Dark Lord he doesn't feel threatened anymore."

"What do you mean, Lestrange?" Sirius asked impatiently, confused.

"Now that Potter is out of the way, the Dark Lord doesn't need to fear anything anymore. He can take his time, draw it out,"

"Potter out of the way? But Potter is a Death Eater! He killed Cedric Diggory ten years ago! He helped resurrect Voldemort!"

Here, Bellatrix smiled. It was a cold, disturbing smile, one so fake it looked dead, almost glued-on. She stayed silent for a moment, before she broke out into slightly hysterical laughter.

"Talk, you bitch!" Sirius shouted.

Bellatrix grinned.

"You were wrong! And now your precious golden boy is rotting in Azkaban! The Dark Lord killed the Diggory boy, and you stupid bloodtrators condemned the one who tried to save him! Poor ickle baby Potter, mad as me!" Bellatrix laughed hysterically, her eyes wide.

Sirius felt his heart stop in panic and fear. He fell forward, collapsing on to an equally shocked Remus. He grabbed at Remus' shoulders for support. No. Bellatrix was lying. Har- _Potter_ was guilty, he was a murderer. He had killed Cedric Diggory. Hell, he had come back holding the boy's body, screaming. It had been proven that he was a vital part of Voldemort's resurrection.

Sirius pulled himself off a shaking Remus and grabbed Bellatrix's shoulders, shaking her wildly.

"LIAR! He's a murderer, there was-_is_ so much evidence!" Sirius turned to Snape.

"You! I bet you fucked up the truth serum, trying to help your friends, you slimy Slytherin Death Eater!"

"I hate to tell you Black, but Dumbledore himself made the serum, not me. It looks like you _did _throw your _innocent, naïve _godson into Azkaban. I wonder how far gone he is?" Snape sneered.

Sirius desperately turned to Moody, who, first the first time since Sirius had known him, looked shocked.

"No, no…. Moony?" This couldn't be true. He couldn't have condemned his godson to the Hell he himself had endured for twelve years. But he had had an Animagus form. He remember Remus telling him, so, so long ago, that Harry's worst fear was the Dementor's, and when he was near them he relived Lily and James' death. At the time, Sirius remember saying that the murderer deserved it, that he deserved to rot for all eternity. Sirius felt sick.

"I'll go get Albus," Moody said, before quickly leaving the room. Sirius turned to Remus, to see tears well up in the werewolf's amber eyes. Bellatrix was watching, a mad grin still plastered across her face. Sirius whirled to face her, his wand digging into her throat.

"Poor baby Potter, all alone in Azkaban. Do you think he cried, Black? Do you think he tried to kill himself? We all tried, why wouldn't he?" Bellatrix said, still smirking sadistically. Sirius choked back a sob, before roughly jabbing his wand into her wind pipe. Remus gently pulled his wand arm away and looked into his eyes.

"Padfoot, that won't solve anything. Just wait for Dumbledore."

Just as the words felt his mouth, Dumbledore rushed in with Moody, his bright yellow robes sweeping across the ground. Sirius and Remus told Dumbledore what they had been told, and Dumbledore had asked Bellatrix himself. At the end, Dumbledore was looked pale and grim, the twinkle gone from his eyes.

"What are we going to do? I- We put Harry in Azkaban! An innocent boy! Oh, God," Sirius moaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Albus, we need to get him out of there." Remus said quietly, trying to be calm. Sirius noticed however, his hands were shaking and his voice was several pitches higher than usual.

"I will go the Ministry now, my boy. Before we do anything, we need clearance papers, as well as a pass to Azkaban. Sedate or stun Lestrange and be ready to go in an hour." With that Dumbledore turned to leave.

"Go where?" Moody asked.

Dumbledore paused and said gravely, without turning around.

"To get Harry, of course. We must right our wrong"

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**Please, please, PLEASE review. The more reviews I get the quicker I will update. It will also improve my mood a great deal, so the poor people who have to put up with me will not be insulted or humiliated as much. I think sarcasm is my way of showing affection :)**


	3. Empty and Dead

**Next chapter! See bottom for important note!**

**Warnings: None, I think.**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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Three men walked down the cold corridor, followed by a prison guard, their heavy footsteps echoing eerily, rebounding off the stone walls of the most secure part of Azkaban. It was freezing and just being in this place could bring a strong person to their knees.

The first man shivered, shaking his long, black hair from his face. He had never wanted to be here again and now here he was, being assaulted by memories of his own imprisonment, of blood, pain and tears. He turned to the second man, who gave him a brief, sad smile, before wrapping his arms tightly around his own body, trying to fight off not only the cold but the terrible guilt in his heart, his amber eyes full of sadness. He had not only condemned his best friend to this Hell, but the boy he had cared for as a son as well. The last man, much older than the others, wore a blank expression, his bright blue eyes and yellow robes out of place in this dark, pain filled place.

A dementor drifted past, causing the dark haired man to move closer to the amber eyed one, either trying to protect him or use him as a shield to block out the sounds and images that the creatures brought. The guard moved his wand towards the dementor, the sliver leopard patronus he had conjured bounded over, forcing the dementor to retreat. The dark haired man breathed a sigh of relief.

When the men had reached the end of the corridor they stopped. The guard stepped forward and swept his wand against the door, chanting in an unknown language. A soft click was heard as he finished the strange spell. Remus Lupin opened the huge, reinforced door slowly, as though he feared what was behind it. It open with an audible shudder, its heavy weight being moved for the first time in years.

A silence echoed though the corridor, as each man, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore stood together for a moment that felt like an eternity, the silence louder than any words they could have spoken. They each entered the cell one by one. There, curled up in a ball in a corner, was what once was Harry James Potter.

Harry's hair was long, matted and dirty, his small body thin and gaunt, even though his flimsy prison robes bones were visible. Scratches and scars covered his exposed arms, like sad, grisly imitations of decorations. A long, open wound graced his right lower arm, bloody and infected. His body was almost as small as it had been when he was imprisoned, he had hardly grown at all even though he was now twenty four. He hadn't reacted at all to the loud gasps and muttered curse words the three men uttered. His face was between his knees, his expression a mystery to the men, his frail body shaking and trembling from the cold.

Harry?" Sirius said, his voice low and uncertain, full of fear that his godson was truly gone. "Harry, we're here. We know that you are innocent. I'm so, so sorry Harry," His voice broke off. Still Harry didn't move. If it weren't for the small, shallow motion of his chest rising and falling he could have been dead, just another corpse in this hollow place.

Remus walked across the tiny cell, kneeling in front of Harry's body, Sirius following suit. There, he noticed the wall.

The wall was covered in red and rusty brown lines, spanning across the surface of the blocks of stone. Sirius noticed what his friend was looking at and a gasp left his mouth, his eyes widening dramatically. He looked at the cut on Harry's arm again, open and raw. Oh, gods.

"Harry?" Remus tried to coax the boy. He moved Harry's arms from his face, Harry didn't resist, he was like a puppet with its strings cut, limp and useless. Remus wanted to cry when he saw the dead, look in Harry's in once vibrant emerald eyes. He had a blank, almost empty look on his hollow face, his eyes sunken in unblinking and his skin so pale the blue and red veins were visible in the sharp hollows of his cheeks.

"Oh, no." Sirius whispered. He brushed his hand against Harry's cheek, feeling the hard bone that jutted out under it. Sirius carefully lifted Harry's broken body into his arms, cradling him against his chest. He was so cold and Sirius could actually _feel_ his ribs and spine.

"I have already gotten his papers, so we are free to depart. I have contacted the Weasley's and they are willing to live in Grimmauld Place again, to help Harry heal mentally and emotionally. In fact, they should be there when we arrive." Dumbledore said, speaking for the first time. Sirius nodded, his expression full of horror as he looked down at Harry's unresponsive face.

"Poppy and Severus are also going to stay, to help Harry's physical recovery." Dumbledore spoke again, his words falling on deaf ears.

They group followed the guard out of Azkaban, leaving the fortress behind. Still Harry Potter stayed silent, the smirk on his bitten and bloody lips unnoticed and unseen by the concerned people he once called family.

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**I hate this chapter, it just wouldn't come out right (That's what sh-) ignore my dirty mind. Anyway, I need YOUR opinion on this story. Would you like: A: Light Harry, B: Dark, insane Harry who is with Voldemort, C: Dark, insane Harry who isn't with Voldemort or the Order and has a side of his own or D: Dark, insane Harry who isn't with Voldemort or the Order and works alone. I personally like option D the best but you can decide. Review and tell me what your choice is!**


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